Her aunt was making herself cuffs out of little slips of insertion under the newly lit lamp. That is an evil place!” She cried. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. Before that came your father didn’t even know you were gone. Montressor’s guests were. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being.
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